I'll Make a Man Out of You
by hypereuni
Summary: The recruiter glances up at the boy in front of him...and cringes internally at the sight of pink hair. 'Pray that his father at least had the sense to give him a manly name.' "Name?" "...Sakura-um. Mo. Er," the boy stutters. The man rolls his eyes and writes down 'Haruno Sakuramo' on the ledger. It's not masculine in the least, but he'll take it. Mulan AU. Sakura-centric.
1. Chapter 1

AN: Thank you for the kind reviews and thanks to all of the people who kudos-ed/bookmarked this little story! I'm so excited that people actually read what I post online, haha.

I'm currently looking for a beta-reader to look over my stories, so if you're interested or knows someone who might be interested in taking a look, hit me up. **The Konoha Army needs YOU.**

* * *

 **Location: On the road to Konoha Army Recruitment Center #9.**

She's trudging down the road barefoot, with her straw sandals tied to the satchel on her back, when she comes across the caravan lying on its side in the middle of the road. The weather has been particularly fickle these past few weeks, and the roads are now always muddy and wet. After a few days of walking, the soft mud that oozes between her toes and smothers her feet hardens into what she can only describe as a brittle, shoe-like coating that makes it look as if she has bricks on her feet. Sakura's given up on maintaining any semblance of proper hygiene at this point, and the smell of wet earth and rotting vegetation now clings to her like a second skin. She's rolled up her loose yellow pantaloons (which she had filched from Naruto's dresser) knee-high in a futile effort to save them, but after a few more steps, she trips on something hard and sharp and falls on her ass. Her pants are now stained brown with mud; with her luck, she's pretty sure her burlap knapsack is the same color.

Well, _fuck_. There'd better be a pond or a lake somewhere nearby to wash the stains off her clothes. What she would do for a bath at an ōnsen, except it's impossible for two reasons: one was the absolute lack of bathing facilities in this godforsaken wilderness and the other the indisputable certainty that she would probably be mistaken as a pervert if she _did_ go inside one. She would never be able to live it down, not with her distinctive pink hair. A growl rises deep inside her throat.

Naruto'd _better_ be able to explain himself once she tracks him down. It's true that her adoptive brother has always had a rather peculiar sense of humor, but even he wouldn't dare to go so far as to desert the army as a prank, especially not when his father's life is on the line. So if that note two days ago is meant to be a joke, then, well. It's probably a good thing that nobody she's contacted so far has seen hair nor hide of him, because Sakura is _not_ amused.

With dogged determination, Sakura picks herself up, dusts the seat of her pants (inadvertently smearing the dirt stains), and continues her slow journey to the army recruitment center that's the farthest from her hometown, on the other side of the capital; the less people who are aware of her identity, the better her chances are of enlistment. It's way out in the outskirts of the kingdom of Konoha, perilously near where the recent battles have taken place. No one dares to travel alone on the road during times of war nowadays; even the bandits avoid the roads near the Konoha-Uchiwa border, afraid of being caught in the crossfire. There hasn't been anyone else on this road in the three days she's been traveling on it, so to say that she is surprised when she happens upon the three men crowding around the upset caravan is an understatement.

She doesn't know what aspect of this situation perplexes her the most: the existence of other travelers besides her on this road, perhaps, or the butchered caravan, wooden wheels spinning idly in the air, goods strewn haphazardly on the road. Or maybe the fact that these men are just _ridiculously_ good-looking.

"Hey! HEEEYYYY!" Hottie #1 calls out when he spots her figure, waving his arms in the air. He's taller than the other two, and there's just a little curl to his dark hair that's probably due to the humidity of the air. Hottie #2, with straight hair gathered in a ponytail and a face as white and blank as a nō-mask, is perched on top of the caravan. #3's picking up little ceramic jars that are miraculously still intact from the ground with a grimace on his perfect face that would probably be terrifying on another person, but just makes him look like he's constipated.

Sakura is suddenly acutely aware of her travel-soiled clothes and the days-old grime on her skin and unwashed, oily hair. She gawks at them stupidly, mouth open in a comic "O", before Hottie #1 barrels towards her with a desperate expression on his face.

"Please please _please_ help us," he pleads, dark eyes wide. "This is all Sasu-chan's fault, believe me. Or maybe Ita-chan's fault, since Ita-chan's in charge of his little brother, but the fact of the matter is, we can't get this caravan out and we really need to get this order of hair products home by midnight or else Tou-san will get mad. Are you from these parts? Maybe you can help us find someone to-"

"Shisui. He doesn't look like he's from around here," Hottie #2 cuts in with a surprisingly deep voice that is not at all unpleasant. "And for the record, this is all because you tried to swerve right to avoid that puddle."

"Hmph. Shisui-baka." Hottie #3 chimes in, and Sakura swoons internally, because wow, #3 is by far the most beautiful person she has ever seen in her life. Dark hair, dark eyes. Tall, slim build, fine bone structure. Probably from the capital. It's strange that someone with such aristocratic features would be hawking goods on the dusty road like any other trader, but Sakura definitely doesn't mind the eye-candy.

She belatedly realizes that Hottie #2 is talking to her because she's too busy salivating over his younger brother. She only manages to catch the last part of his sentence: "...help us?" It's hard to tell with #2's expressionless face, but he looks a little amused and flicks his eyes towards his brother, who is busy looking for salvageable merchandise that had fallen on the roadside after the accident. _He had probably noticed her checking out his brother's ass._

"Oh yeah, I can help with the carriage. Move," she says offhandedly, absentmindedly eyeing the caravan. It should be fine now, since she's dressed as a boy and their current location is pretty far from her hometown. There's no one around now to reprimand her about her jeopardizing her eligibility as a proper, submissive wife. She doubts if there is anyone willing to marry her even if she tried, regardless. She'd stay an old maid forever if what she is about to do ever gets around to Uzushio, but at least it'll be for a good cause. Maybe she'll be lucky enough to get that #3 to smile at her if she managed to set the caravan upright. Or maybe all three of them.

There's a pregnant pause, and Shisui clears his throat. "Ah, we were thinking if you would be willing to help us find some other people around here who can help. It's impossible to move it with three people, and someone like you..." He trails off, but they all know what he is about to say. Sakura doesn't look very prepossessing, even on the best of days. To them, she probably looks like a prepubescent peasant boy with ridiculously colored hair who has no idea what he is saying.

Sakura scowls. "Do you have a problem?" She asks, smiling a little too sweetly. "I said that I can help, and I asked you to kindly move out of my way." Hottie #1 pales but doesn't budge. Rolling her eyes, Sakura neatly side-steps Shisui. At least the three of them had the presence of mind to unhitch the horses beforehand. The caravan is tilted on its side; one of the wheels is firmly stuck in the muddiest, deepest pothole in the road. Shisui is right: three strong men would definitely not be able to hoist it from the mud that bogged it down. It would be suicide for one person to attempt this feat.

That is, if the person in question didn't possess superhuman strength.

* * *

Sakura knows better than anyone that nothing would ever hide her distinctive hair, but Shisui refuses to take no for an answer. Despite her half-hearted protests, he pops into the newly upright caravan and brings out few bright neon packets that he stuffs into her hands.

"As thanks, here are some samples of our most popular product. Dark hair will definitely suit you, young master!" Shisui chirps. He's a little too eager to please, his smile a little too fixed. He's probably still feeling guilty about the slip-up from earlier. Shisui glances at the youngest. "Isn't that right, Sasuke?"

Hottie #3 glances at Sakura's hair and smirks. "Aa."

It's definitely not the case that she wants to please the boy, although the slight quirk of his lips does make her heart flutter for a second. She's definitely not thinking about Sasuke's smile. Or his eyes. Nope.

* * *

Shisui drops the smile as soon as the boy's back is turned. Eyes narrowed in thought, he watches him until the slight figure is engulfed by the fog.

"Permission to terminate the target, Captain?" Itachi murmurs behind him. He's already crouched, knives unsheathed, ready to go after the boy at the given signal. Shisui impatiently slaps his shoulder.

"Maa, maa, Ita-chan, let the boy be. He did just save us from a sticky situation. Besides, it just might make things a little more fun around here." he chuckles, and Itachi relaxes his stance.

"Should we let Kagami-sama know?" Sasuke asks from the driver's seat. Although Shisui holds seniority, Itachi and Sasuke have tacitly agreed not to let their cousin take over the reins under any circumstance after the morning's fiasco. Shisui hums.

"...No. Not yet." Shisui replies after a moment. "The boy is most likely not important, and Tou-sama will be displeased if we interrupt him with irrelevant findings. For now, focus on getting to the safe house."

"...Aa." Sasuke nickers to the horses, and the carriage moves smoothly...and abruptly veers off the road onto a hidden path in the forest. Within minutes, it's well on its way to the Uchiwa safe house near the border.

* * *

When Sakura sees the lake next to the sign that says "500m to Army Recruitment Center," she fumbles around in her pack and pulls out the packet of Ready2Go Hair Dye that Shisui had given her ("Be—oo—tiful dark hair in just seconds!").

She waits for the waters to still before peering hopefully at her reflection, and deflates once she catches a glimpse of her hair.

"…Yup. Knew it."

* * *

[7/2/18]: fixed formatting issues.


	2. Chapter 2

The first thing that registers on Nara Shikamaru's mind as he stands in line with the other hapless males of his generation, is, surprisingly, not the fact that he may most likely die in the next upcoming months. Well, that was stretching it a little far; he _had_ briefly thought about his doom the weeks prior to coming here with his small satchel of worldly belongings, but he'd preferred to think about other things. Like the coolness of the tatami mat under his cheek as he dozed away the afternoon hours in his room, basking in the sunlight, or the last few games of shogi he played with his father, before the man himself left to complete his own duties. Or the different cloud formations in the blue skies. Today's, he absently notes, is the usual thin, wispy ones that hang in the air like the heat emanating from a perfect, freshly brewed cup of tea.

It's a beautiful day for cloud-gazing, but he's too busy staring at the absurdly colored hair of the boy a few heads in front of him to really pay close attention to the heavens above.

It's…pink.

It's a pretty shade of pink, he grudgingly notes, like the soft hue of cherry blossoms, but all he can muster is a vague sort of pity for the boy. Nobody could pass it off as strawberry-blonde, or red or any other shade of color that sounded remotely manly. It poofs out like a gigantic pink monstrosity of a dandelion clock, and Shikamaru winces internally. It's not as badly styled as the childish bowl-cut the kid with the big, shiny eyes sports, but _still._ The boy might as well put a target on his back…which he seemed to have already done, the pea-brained fool—a big, white ensō on the back of the red tunic he is currently wearing.

 _What a fucking idiot._

Shikamaru has no idea what would happen to himself in the next few months; all enlisted men started off as foot soldiers, regardless of their socioeconomic status. Even if it were possible, he knows that Shikaku would never use his influence as Chief Advisor to pull his son out of harm's way.

What he did know with relative certainty, however, glancing at the boy's trembling shoulders and rail-thin arms and legs, is the fact that Pinkie is _screwed_.


	3. Chapter 3

It's a long-ass line, but Sakura finds herself at the front in no time. She's barely presentable and her short hair sticks out in all directions, but at least she got all of the mud stains out of her clothes.

"NEXT!" someone bellows from inside the tent, and Sakura hurriedly ducks under the flap. There's a man in a green flak jacket sitting at the cheap folding desk. A figure wearing a bone-white mask and some kind of bizarre combination of mesh and gray protective gear stands guard behind him. The mousy-haired man at the desk is wearing a cheery welcome tag on his right breast that says "HI! My Name is: SHIRANUI GENMA" that doesn't at all take away from the scowl he's currently sporting. If the man in the mask has any opinions about her tardiness, he keeps them to himself. "We haven't got all day, kiddo," the man at the desk snaps. He glowers at her from under his bandana as if she had been the one responsible for the cast on his leg and the crutches leaning against his chair. _Well, someone woke up on the right side of the bed today._ Sakura bit back a sharp retort and sprang to attention.

"Last name?" Shiranui Genma flicks a senbon between his teeth. _Fwip fwip_.

"Haruno." Minato had given her one of his trademark sad puppy-dog looks when she refused to take the Namikaze name, but Sakura was adamant about keeping her last name. Kushina-obāsan had completely understood. It is the only thing that her birth parents have given her that she still has.

"First?" The senbon flicks out again like a silver tongue, and Sakura is so engrossed in the action that she doesn't think about what she says next.

"Sakura—um, mo. Erm," she stutters, confused in spite of herself. She had meant to say Kenji, which was the name she had decided upon on the road, or even Sakumo (it sounds oddly familiar, for some reason, but she can't think why) but she is caught off-guard by the senbon and her old name springs unbidden to her lips. She opens her mouth a few times voicelessly, like a gigantic goldfish, before shutting it, and her pale cheeks flush to match the color of her hair.

"So what is it?" Shiranui-san asks irritably. "Any time now, Pinkie. There's about a thousand of you I need to process today, and more coming in tomorrow." The judgment emanating from the man and from the masked figure standing behind him is almost palpable.

Sakura decides to just roll with it. "Uh..." she clears her throat and attempts to pitch her voice a little lower than usual. "It's Sakuramo. Haruno Sakuramo. I'm here to replace Namikaze Minato." She hopes that the two of them don't catch the note of desperation in her voice. Shiranui-san eyes her oddly for a moment.

"...Are you sure that's really your name?"

"O-of course I'm sure, it's the name I was born with!" Sakura snaps. Her palms are cold with sweat.

"Could have fooled me," Shiranui-san mutters under his breath before flipping a page in the ledger and writing the characters for "Haruno Sakuramo" on the blank page. He writes the characters clumsily, awkwardly and Sakura wonders if he has injured his arm as well. It's apparent that he's only stuck on desk duty because of his injuries.

"Alright, you're all set," the man announces. Sakura blinks.

That...was way too easy. "Aren't there tests I have to pass or something? No strip-search?" her mouth moves before her brain can process exactly what she is saying. Shiranui-san guffaws, surprised.

"Kid, we just need cannon fodder," he drawls, and consults another list on the desk. "Hmm. I'll put you in with Team Seven. Hatake-taichou will whup you guys into shape in no time." The man in the mask silently leans over and taps on a blank spot on the ledger. "Oops, forgot one thing," Shiranui-san says. "Thanks Raidou-uh, sorry, Bear. What's your hometown, brat?"

"Uzushio."

"We don't get many Uzu, that's cool," Shiranui-san says distractedly. His pen has just run out of ink, and he's digging around the desk to see if there's a spare he can use. "It's a little far from here. Most people tend to go to the recruitment center near the Hokage Monument because it's closer."

Sakura grimaces internally. Uzushio's a small, sprawling village and like in any small town, everyone knows everyone else and their pet cacti. This recruitment center is closer to the capital than to Uzushio, and Sakura has chosen it for obvious reasons.

The Konoha army only recruits men.

Sakura is a woman. Women are not obligated to serve the Emperor in the same capacity as men, but Sakura has no choice.

This way, she can save both her adoptive father and track down that idiot brother of hers without anyone the wiser.

* * *

AN: I re-uploaded this chapter because I found out that I left out something crucial for plot development. Silly me. Anyway, tell me what works, what doesn't work, or what your favorite parts are. It helps me improve my writing and motivates me to give you the best I can. Also, I'll probably update faster if you do. Just sayin'.

Question: Does anyone know if there's a Sakura-centric LiveJournal out there? Is that still a thing? I'm relatively new to fan fiction (I've started reading fan fiction around 2 years ago, and writing it like, a month ago lol), and it would be great to be able to exchange prompts and the like.


	4. Chapter 4

AN: I was going to be lazy and just follow the plot of the 1998 Disney movie, but I guess that somehow just fell by the wayside. Heads up: ninjutsu is a thing in this alternative universe—I just tweaked a few details here and there. But then again, I'm taking a lot of liberties just by writing up this AU in the first place. Sorry, Kishimoto.

Also, apologies for the super short update—second round of midterms are coming up and I confess that I've been focusing more on another story. On the bright side, spring break starts in two weeks so I'll have more time to work on this and The Other Ones.

* * *

"Well then, off you go," Shiranui-san says. He scribbles something on a small slip of paper and hands it to her. "Give that to Hatake-taichou when you see him. Bear will show you the way out. NEXT!"

The man in the mask is already lifting the flap of the tent, and Sakura hurries to follow him out. The pudgy recruit waiting right outside the entrance visibly pales when she comes out of the tent.

"What's taking them so long?" she hears Genma grumble from within. "I SAID, NEXT PERSON!" The boy, quivering like jelly, hesitantly steps inside.

The man in the mask—Bear? she thinks is his name—beckons to her with a finger.

"Follow me." Bear grunts before disappearing around the corner, and Sakura follows suit. They circle around to the back of the tent, where there are two masked sentries standing guard in front of a small gated entrance. Bear nods at them, and the one whose mask resembles the snarling face of a tiger salutes before unlatching the gate. The door swings open to reveal a narrow forest path fringed with oak trees.

As soon as they pass through the gate, the outline of Bear's body flickers and the man suddenly _disappears_ in a blink of an eye.

In one moment he's striding in front of her, the shadows of the leaves above creating dappled patterns on the dull grey metal of his armor; the next he's just… _gone_.

"…Uh, Mr. Bear?" Sakura looks around her. _Where the hell did he go?_

"I'm up here, kid," someone says distantly. Something rustles in the leafy canopy above her. "I don't suppose you know how to tree-walk, do you?"

"Of course not." Sakura scowls up at the leaves. "It's a jutsu. How would I know if it's illegal for civilians to know military techniques?" Well, technically, she understands the theory behind it but she never actually had the guts to practice at home. Naruto did, though.

There's an audible sigh from the canopy of leaves above her. "Not Clan, eh?" she thinks he mutters. "Alright, then," Bear says a little louder. "Just… follow the trail, and I'll tell you when to change direction. And, uh, we're a little short-handed and I need to go back to the tents to pick up a few more of you, so let's pick up the pace, shall we?"

"…Wait, what?" Sakura says, taken aback. There's a flash of silver; a kunai whistles past her ear and embeds itself into the trunk of the tree right next to her, and she shrieks and jumps out of the way.

"You could have just told me to RUN, you know!" She yells. Bear doesn't deign to respond.


	5. Chapter 5

The recruitment tents are situated a ways off from the training grounds in the flat valley below. Actually, that's pretty much of an understatement, because they have to get past the small birch forest that lies between the tents and the training grounds. After a few twists and turns (and a few breaks in between), they reach a crossroad. There's a nondescript wooden post with six weather-beaten signs.

…All of which are written in code.

"…A-are we lost?" Sakura pants, doubling over. It's been a while since she's exercised this much, and there's a stitch in her side that's killing her.

Bear makes a few hand signs and words slowly appear on the boards. They're all evidently written by different people.

 **BaRAcKs** , one pointing to the left reads in sloppy characters; **_Recruitment_** , the sign pointing to the direction in which they had just come from notes primly in beautiful calligraphy.

"What are _those_ supposed to be?" Sakura asks, pointing toward the remaining signs which, despite being translated into readable Japanese, seem a little…off.

 _See Vol.1 p. 23._ , the third sign says.

 _Road to life_ , the one below it reads, and on the last signpost, someone has simply scrawled a doodle of a henohenohemoeji.

Bear grimaces. "Ask your squadron leader when you meet him, because HE'S the one who came up with the code," he says shortly, and mutters a few choice words about eccentric genius assholes.

 _Ooookay_.

"He sounds like a character," Sakura says, quickly adding "sir." Bear just makes another weird face that makes it look like he's constipated.

"He is," he says shortly. He doesn't elaborate, and Sakura drops the subject. "Anyway, just walk straight down the hill until you reach the training grounds," Bear says. He jerks his thumb at the sign pointing straight ahead which reads "TRAINING GROUNDS" in neat block letters. For a moment, he seems to hesitate.

"Hatake-taichou is a little…unique in his training methods. Good luck, kid."

Bear makes a few hand signs, and a whirlwind of skeleton leaves surround his figure. "Don't forget," a voice calls out from the storm of flying leaf litter and debris, "he likes to look underneath the underneath."

"What? What's that supposed to mean?" Sakura says, dumbfounded, but of course, she's too late-Bear disappears and she finds herself talking to empty air.

"GODDAMNIT!" she screams.

Like Bear couldn't be more cryptic. _Look underneath the underneath?_ What kind of stupid advice was that?

Kami, this was why she couldn't stand soldiers or people from the Capitol. Well, however rude and condescending Bear was, this Hatake-person sounded infinitely worse.

Life really couldn't get worse than this, could it?

"Only one way to find out, I guess," she mutters to herself. She hefts her bag and heads toward the training grounds.


	6. chapter 6

It actually doesn't take that long to walk to the training grounds, but with all of the cardio exercise that Bear has made her go through, Sakura is ready to hit the ground. She drags her feet to the pair of bored-looking guards sitting in front of the wooden gate leading to the open plain. One's reading a paperback book; the other is shuffling through a stack of playing cards with the finesse of a seasoned gambler.

"Name?" The one reading his book queries, his eyes still glued to the page. The sticky name tag on his flak jacket reads "Izumo" in neat block letters. The other man ("HI! MY NAME IS: Kotetsu") squints dubiously at a earmarked card and sets it aside on the table.

"Ha...Haruno, Sa-kura-mo," Sakura wheezes, still trying to catch her breath. She licks her cracked lips. Izumo reluctantly sets his book aside and jots down her name on the long scroll spread out in front of him. Beside him, Kotetsu makes a waterfall with his deck of cards.

"Did they tell you who to report to?" Izumo asks. He smacks Kotetsu's hand, which elicits a startled yelp from the other man, who drops the cards that he's holding. A cascade of cards fall to the ground.

"HEY! That was totally uncalled for," Kotetsu whines, gingerly touching the back of his hand. He grimaces in exaggerated pain.

"You were being annoying," Izumo says dismissively, and then turns to Sakura. "Sorry, didn't catch that."

"Hatake-taichou," Sakura tells him.

While Kotetsu, grumbling, gets up to retrieve his cards, Izumo consults another scroll and scribbles something down in the first of the five boxes underneath the character for field: 畑. Hatake. There are a few other kanji that seem to be the names of the other captains. Sakura recognizes a few famous names here and there.

Kotetsu emerges from the bushes that are a couple of feet away from the guard station, triumphantly holding a dirty Queen of Hearts and a three of clovers.

"LOOK, IZUMO, LOOK!" he hollers, and Izumo nearly overturns the inkwell. "LOOK WHAT I FOUND-"

Izumo shoots him a dirty look and Kotetsu deflates. "Sorry," he says sheepishly.

"You have one job to do, Kotetsu," Izumo mutters under his breath. "One. Job-"

"Which is boring as fuck," Kotetsu says, rolling his eyes. "I already said I was sorry. Lighten up, man." He smacks Izumo's back good-naturedly. "Oh, it's Hatake-taichou, huh?" he says, peering over Izumo's shoulder. "What's the betting pool like this time around?"

Izumo nudges him hard in the ribs but the damage has already been done. Sakura stiffens.

"What do you mean by that, exactly?" She asks warily. Kotetsu glances a little desperately at Izumo, but Izumo's already buried himself in his book again.

"Weeeell, Hatake-taichou is a little, uh, peculiar, but we all have our idiosyncrasies, heh heh," Kotetsu says, scratching the back of his head. Sakura doesn't buy it.

"I think you mentioned something about a **betting pool** ," she says, emphasizing the last two words. She glares at Kotetsu. He gives up.

"The betting pool's been around since we were recruits," Kotetsu says, jabbing his thumb at Izumo, who doesn't seem to be paying any attention to the conversation at hand. "Hatake Kakashi is infamous for not passing anyone, Clan brat or not. The kids who enter his squad either quit or flunk out pretty quickly, so people place bets on how long the newest batch of recruits last. There's only one kid who's managed to stick around until now, but that's only because he got transferred over to Might Gai's squad. I heard he's clinically bat-shit insane."

"The captain or the recruit?" Sakura asks, confused.

"Probably both," Izumo replies distantly. He must have been listening to their conversation after all. "But Kotetsu probably meant the recruit. If you're talking about Gai-taichou's little clone, I completely agree." He flips a page.

"I mean, how hard do you have to hit your head to wear that green jumpsuit voluntarily?" Kotetsu mutters, shaking his head. "I don't even want to know what Hatake did to make him turn out like that. Geez." He shudders.

"...So how long do people last on his squad?" Sakura asks Kotetsu.

"Two weeks, give or take," the man replies. "The longest anyone's lasted is two weeks and four hours. Come to think of it, even Rock Lee was only there for a week or so before Gai swooped in like an avenging angel. That probably explains the jumpsuit, now that I think about it."

This Hatake person was beginning to sound more and more like a nightmare.

"And, uh, what happens if you flunk out?"

Kotetsu barks out a laugh and then quickly sobers. "Kid, you would wish you didn't," he warns.

"Grave digging, latrine duty and other unpleasant things," Izumo summarizes without looking up, "plus someone else from your family will have to fill your spot."

...which is exactly what she's trying to prevent.

"Well," Sakura says, throwing her hands up into the air, " is there ANYTHING that I can do to make sure that I actually manage to stay on his squad?"

This actually makes Izumo look up from his book. He looks first at Kotetsu, and then both men turn to look at Sakura.

There's a pause before both men dissolve into peals of laughter.

"What?" Sakura scowls.

"YOU?" Kotetsu guffaws. Izumo, red-faced from laughing so hard, wipes away a tear. "I take it back, Izumo. I won't trade this job for anything else."

"Well, I'm glad that the two of you are enjoying yourselves," Sakura says icily. This just makes them laugh harder.

Sakura grits her teeth and waits until the two men calm down.

"Kotetsu-san," she says when Kotetsu's laughter winds down. "You seem like a betting man. Let's have a bet, just between you and me."

Izumo immediately catches the shift in her tone and stiffens. Kotetsu, on the other hand, is still chortling.

He stops when he hears her next words.

"I wager 50,000 ryo* that I'll stay on Hatake-taichou's squad," Sakura tells him. "Not for two weeks, but for the rest of this war."

Kotetsu scoffs.

"That'd be like taking candy from a baby," he says. "What's the fun in that? You probably don't have the money for it anywa-"

The thunk of a small pouch, heavy with coin, interrupts him mid-sentence.

"I have it here," Sakura says flatly. "Deal or no deal?"

"Deal." Kotetsu says immediately.

"Just so you know, this idiot doesn't have the funds to honor your agreement if you do end up winning," Izumo warns.

"Then I want a favor later on. You can do that, right?" Sakura turns to Kotetsu. He smirks.

"Sure," he drawls. "IF you win."

Asshole.

"It's a pleasure to do business with you, Kotetsu-san." Sakura pockets her coin pouch. "But remember, no take backs."

Kotetsu quirks an eyebrow.

"I should be saying that to you," he says. "But well, if you insist."

They exchange shark-toothed grins before Izumo finally intervenes to give Sakura directions to wherever she's heading.

Kotetsu beams at Izumo after the pink-haired slip of a boy trudges off towards his impending doom.

"My luck seems to be turning, eh, Izumo?"

"I don't know," Izumo says, looking thoughtfully at Sakura's disappearing figure. "You might have bitten off more than you can chew this time around."

"...Wait, what? What's that supposed to mean?"

* * *

 **AN [05/06/18]: Editing for sentence flow and grammatical errors that I didn't catch the first time around.**

 ***Here, I'm assuming that 100 ryo is equivalent to 100 yen, so Sakura is betting approximately $500 in U.S. Dollars.**


	7. chapter 7

"Yesss," Sakura moans. "Finally. A **bed**." She slings her backpack to the ground and flops down on one of the bottom bunks. She's the first one here; the other four beds are neatly made and nothing seems out of place, which is weird in a living space that is supposed to be shared with four other boys. She can feel the springs inside the cheap mattress under her, but Sakura doesn't mind. After five days of sleeping on the cold hard ground, she can finally sleep in a real bed with sheets. If that moron only knew what she was going through for his sake. She wishes Naruto a painful, gruesome death for the 213th time before turning her attention back to her bed. The sheets are certainly not silk or 100% cotton, but they're better than the thin blanket that she's wrapped herself in for the past few days. There are a few suspect spots on the linen but hey, she isn't about to complain.

And after everything's that's happened today, the bed feels so, so inviting. The tent is cool and dim and just the right temperature for a quick nap on a sweltering summer day.

She still has some time before everyone else showed up. A few minutes of rest wouldn't hurt.

She promptly falls asleep.

* * *

When she wakes up, it takes her a while to adjust to the sudden brightness of her surroundings. Something feels a little...off. Wherever she is, it's definitely not in her new bunk. It almost feels as if she is suspended mid-air-which, she discovers, is the case.

What the **fuck** is going on?

"The first lesson, children," a baritone voice drawls from somewhere below her, "is to never to let your guard down."

The ropes binding her tighten, and Sakura feels herself steadily rising up, up, up in the air.

"What the HELL?" She screams at the man. "Are you fucking INSANE?! LET ME DOWN RIGHT NOW YOU BASTARD!" For good measure, she adds a few more colorful words that would have made Kushina oba-san proud.

"The second lesson," the man continues as if he didn't hear her outburst, "is to respect your elders. Especially your commanding officer." He secures the ropes in his hand connecting to the elaborate pulley system hooked up to Sakura and turns to face the four boys standing dutifully in line. Sakura, still snarling, cranes her head to get a glimpse of her newest enemy.

...He has no face.

Well no, that isn't completely true, but the shock of white hair, the headband and the mask over his mouth effectively hides most of his facial features. The only thing that really stands out on his monochromatic, fabric-swathed face is his right eye, half-lidded with what looks like a mixture of apathy and contempt.

The man's eye swivels over to the four recruits that still have both feet planted firmly on their ground.

"So, introductions," he says cheerfully, as if he hasn't just trussed up one of his subordinates and left her hanging in midair. "You first, Spiky. Just your first names, if you will. I don't care for Clan politics. Last names mean nothing around here."

The boy with the spiky ponytail and the awful posture scowls but answers, "Shikamaru." He stuffs his hands back into his pockets. The man nods, apparently satisfied, and shifts his gaze towards the next boy.

"C-chouji," the fat kid from before stammers.

"Sai," the next boy says with a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes.

The last one bares his teeth and growls at the man in an oddly canine display of alpha dominance. The puppy at his feet copies his master.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," the man says mildly. The boy replies with a rude expletive and his dog yips in agreement. The man tsks.

"Maa, the young ones have no respect for their elders these days," the man sighs, and suddenly he's holding the puppy in his hands, one hand pointing a kunai to its throat.

"Akamaru!" The boy cries. "You bastard! Let go of him!"

"Believe me, kid, I'm a dog person too, so this is killing me inside," the man tells the boy. "I'll let him go when you tell me the magic word. I'll give you a hint: it begins with a P and ends with -lease."

The boy snarls. "Let GO of him, you bastard!" he repeats.

"Hmm?" The man says, tilting his head. "I'm getting old, you see, and my hearing's not as good as it used to be. What did you say?"

"Fuck you, asshole," The boy snarls. "Kaa-san will have your balls served on a plate if you hurt Akamaru, and you don't want the Inuzuka Clan Head after you, Hatake."

The air suddenly turns colder.

"I said, no Clan politics in my squad," the man says icily. "What happens inside my squad stays inside my squad. This place is under **my** jurisdiction. You can tell your mother all you want, but even the Clan Heads can't do anything about it."

Akamaru whines. The man, still holding Akamaru firmly by the scruff of his neck, sighs again.

"Just say the P-word, brat. It's really not that hard."

The boy growls and postures a little more before finally muttering a short, "please."

The man lets go of the puppy and Akamaru bounds into his owner's outstretched arms.

"Name?"

"...Kiba," the boy grumbles.

"Now," the man says, slowly turning his head to look up at the flailing figure above him. "Who do we have here?"

"LET ME DOWN, YOU ONE-EYED BASTARD!" Sakura shrieks.

"Now, now," the man admonishes. "Calling this poor old man names from the very beginning? You break my heart."

Sakura unleashes another volley of expletives and hopes that his heart breaks a second time. She feels a little sorry for calling Bear and Kotetsu names. They have nothing on this guy-this man is truly an asshole among assholes.

She can't wait to get back at him.

* * *

"Quite the ill-mannered lot I have this time around," the man muses to himself. It was probably payback for flunking the last batch of idiots so quickly.

"It's probably karma, taichou," he thinks he hears the boy named Shikamaru mutter, but it can't be him, because the boy in question is already fast asleep against a nearby tree.

Hmm. Probably his subconscious telling him the obvious, as usual.

The man takes another look at the five boys placed under his care.

The three in front of him are obviously Clan brats: a Nara, an Akimichi and an Inuzuka. The pink-haired freak currently thrashing around in his trap looks civilian-born, most likely from one of the outlier villages near the border. Uzushio, perhaps?

The one called Sai is a bit of an outlier, but he's reasonably certain of the boy's heritage.

Really, all he wants to do is flunk this team of misfits and curl up in his tent with a cup of hot barley tea and Sensei's newest book, like he's done in the past. Unfortunately, his hands are somewhat tied regarding the Clan affiliated brats or the bastard. Damn the higher-ups for making him take care of their charges.

But no one had said anything about the civilian-born.

Hmm.

The smile that stretches across his face crinkles the corner of his visible eye.

He claps his hands and everyone, including the pink thing, turns their attention on him.

"You can call me Hatake-taichou," the man says. "I will be responsible for your training from now on. At the moment, all I can say is," he crinkles his eye again. "I hate you all."

* * *

 **AN [07/02/18]: I'm not happy with this chapter at all, so I'll probably come back and rewrite this when I have some time later this week.**


End file.
